


this is us, through your eyes

by dottori



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Fluff without Plot, Friendship, Light-Hearted, Multi, Post Season 4, Recreational Drug Use, Road Trips, Summer Vacation, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, this is just an excuse to write yasmina's pov on her friends, yasmina/bel!yousef is a thing but very vaguely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:11:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21843874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dottori/pseuds/dottori
Summary: Yasmina's first experience travelling with friends for the summer, in ten days.
Relationships: Jens Stoffels/Jana Ackermans, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans, Senne De Smet/Zoë Loockx, Yasmina Ait Omar & Everyone, Yasmina Ait Omar & Robbe IJzermans
Comments: 7
Kudos: 67





	this is us, through your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> i can't wait for her season. so, i wrote about her. this is just plotless fluff and yasmina missing her bel!yousef and loving her friends and me projecting how much i missed her during the beach episode this season. so, self-indulgence at it's finest.
> 
> bel!yousef and bel!elias don't have a name, so that's why it's vague. i suck at names, so. just pronouns for the time being. errors should be expected, i suck at proof-reading.
> 
> i'm too lasy to tag everyone, but they are there. they have screentime from yasmina's pov, as it should be.

i.- _Wednesday 8. July 2020._

** _14:47_ **

Amber talks a lot, but usually, Yasmina tends to skim through half of the things she rambles about in their group chat.

Amber talks about guys and healthy food and guys and runway models and more _guys_. Yasmina has come to predict Amber very well, and while sometimes she doesn’t approve of some things she does or says, Yasmina loves her as she comes.

Today, however, Amber comes with a change of pace. A request, rather, and she does that by Facetime.

“_Remember last October? We went to that beach house,_” She starts, not stopping for a hello, but Yasmina never waited for one; Amber tends to get way too excited and rambly.

And Yasmina deals with it by only letting her be and engage when needed so, now, she nods. “Yeah, what about it?”

“_I was—I mean, we were thinking to go again on Friday. And we wanted to know if you wanted to come this time, too. I know it's a bit sudden but…_”

Amber fidgets a bit, and Yasmina acts as if the question caught her off-guard to ease Amber’s nervousness. The thing is: Yasmina and Luca met at an ice-cream parlor on Monday and Luca asked her, but Yasmina declined. It’s not because she’s not allowed, she just doesn’t feel the need to.

Yasmina knows what they are going for: drinking, partying, smoking, hooking up. And while she’s not a prude or uptight or blind, Yasmina does not want to get involved with that sort of thing. It’s a conscious, personal decision of hers.

So, she says “No, I don’t really want to,” and shrugs. “Thanks for asking,” she adds: “It means a lot.”

And Amber leaves it at that, saying good-bye with a pout surging on her otherwise pretty smile.

** _20:54_ **

Yasmina is not the type of person to doubt or regret. She means what she says and says what she means, or at least tries to. She thinks through her options and takes the most appropriate one in the long run, what is in her best interests.

Now, however, Yasmina thinks about it. About Amber’s request.

There is this common theme she has noticed for a while; that inkling of feeling left out. Yasmina didn’t mind being the outsider back in the day, the loser. She didn’t care kids her age were expected to party and get drunk. Yasmina always did her own thing, and that was fine with her.

Then, the girls came around, and that changed. Yasmina started to care, because she has friends to care about, but not enough to change vital things about herself. Yasmina can party and do all of those things, she just chooses not to.

It never bothered her, how the girls would go out and all these crazy things happened. The girls told her enough, and Yasmina was pleased with them trusting her to share anything in the first place.

Maybe it was simple distrust, but the feeling grew over time: the idea of them leaving stuff out, Yasmina feeling left out, the outsider again, the last one to know of everything. Yasmina never told them stuff about herself either. It was a two-way street; communication wasn’t their forte, and Yasmina wasn’t free of blame.

Now, it’s different. If Amber doesn’t like what Yasmina says, she will say so. If Yasmina has feelings to share, they would listen. They ask and care and share. After all that happened, all the secrets, they are trying with each other, trying to understand.

And with trying, comes compromise, too. If Yasmina doesn’t want to feel left out, she has to make an effort, just how Amber put herself out there and called her, knowing she would say no.

So, she sighs and relents this time. Yasmina can choose her friends once in a while.

> I’m not saying yes
> 
> I’m saying I’ll ask
> 
> Okay?

And Amber calls immediately to squeal at her ears.

* * *

ii.- _Thursday 9. July 2020._

** _11:06_ **

Yasmina asks—it goes as well as she thought it would. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Why? It’s just my friends, mom.” Yasmina doesn’t lie all that often, and she is not lying per se, but she is trying to loosen the blow with a half-truth.

The guys are going, but they are her friends, too. Senne is going, but he is her friend’s boyfriend. It’s not a big deal, but her parents don’t seem to think likewise as it is. If they knew _boys_ were going, this wouldn’t even be a conversation to have.

“That’s exactly why,” Her father says. He is not angry, but rather adamant and worried. “You can’t go to Bruges for a week without any adults, Yasmina. What if something happens?”

“Exactly, honey.” Her mother says, but her words have a different sound on Yasmina’s ears. She is well aware of her mother’s distaste for the girls—they didn’t leave the best of impressions and Yasmina understands where their apprehension comes from. Teenagers aren’t the most reliable people on their eyes, or the influence that she should be around.

“You can’t travel just with your friends. Maybe when you are older.”

She knew it was fruitless to ask, but Amber sounded so hopeful on the phone last night, Yasmina wanted to at least try for them.

In the end, she sighs, defeated, and adds: “Okay. I was just asking,” walking back into her room.

** _15:47_ **

She sits on it for hours, and the more she thinks about it, the more she wants to go. She knows her parents will not be swayed, so her best bet is meeting some of their requirements.

So, Yasmina has a plan, now. “How much would I have to pay for you to come with me and my friends to Bruges for a week?”

Her older brother looks at her weird, astonished as he eats a popsicle on their backyard. “I—_What_?”

Yasmina crosses her arms against her chest, pulls her chin up in the air, and stares at him, waiting for an answer, but her brother just looks back dumbfounded and it’s so annoying when he does that. “Well?”

He bites at the popsicle, looks at her for a moment, and asks: “Are the guys going?”

Yasmina sometimes forgets Robbe and Jens are good friends with her brother and his friends. They skate together sometimes and party at the same places, apparently. But that’s not important right now. “Yes, they are.”

“And…Can I bring my friends?”

“Sure.” She would have to ask Amber, but that can be arranged.

He looks at her again and starts laughing, smiling wide and bright. “You don’t have to pay me, Yas. I’m in,” he says, finishing the popsicle and reaching out to pet her head in that way Yasmina hates. “Let’s talk to our parents and see what we can do.”

** _21:03_ **

**Amber**

> They said yes
> 
> But only if my brother and two of his friends can come
> 
> REALLY?!
> 
> That’s great
> 
> Yeah they can come too
> 
> It’s fine
> 
> Oh this is so exciting
> 
> Breathe Amber
> 
> How much do we have to pitch in with?
> 
> I’ll send you the dets

* * *

iii.- _Friday 10. July 2020._

** _15:28_ **

As it turns out, travelling with friends in the summer is not as great as people make it seem to be. Yasmina might be judging too hard, too early; they have been on the road for barely over ten minutes, but this—this is something else, something she couldn’t have predicted.

Jana has been attached to Jens’ mouth from the moment they saw each other. They got back together a couple of weeks ago and are very much still in the honeymoon phase.

Amber has been stressing and rambling about grocery shop lists and chores and _guys_ and parties and drink and cabins and _boys_ and Yasmina is exhausted just by listening her talk that fast.

Zoë has been glued to her phone the whole time, texting Senne. He’s coming by later today, and Amber has been trying to convince her Senne is acting sketchy. “He should have come with you! What if he’s—”

“He’s at _work_, Amber. It’s really not that deep.”

Aaron fell asleep as soon as they parted from the station. Moyo is busy rolling what seem to be blunts at the back of the bus and Robbe is drawing stuff in Aaron’s face with Luca and recording it for a vlog.

It’s not… not what she feels like her friends would act out of school, high on that summer fun, and while Yasmina would have appreciated to pray in silence and catch some reading, she’s happy to see her friends being themselves with her own eyes, and not by some second-hand gossip for once.

** _23:04_ **

They go to sleep somewhat early, after some marshmallows by the campfire and some chatting and light drinking. Yasmina is having fun, but the tiredness starts winning over after ten thirty.

Amber is stressing about room accommodations, as Yasmina expected her to be. There are thirteen people and two couples to take into consideration—Jens is serious when he says he wants that double bed this time, but Senne won’t back down either, so Amber and Zoë have been trying to find a way around the issue.

Yasmina looks at Robbe sitting next to her, smoking the blunt Moyo is passing around and making fun of Jens with the guys, Jana and Luca. She bumps his shoulder, calling his attention. “And you? Not interested in fighting for that double bed?”

Robbe snorts. “Nah, I’m good,” He nods at Jens and Senne arguing, and adds: “And both of them paid me to stay out of it, anyways.”

“Really?” Luca peeks into their conversation. “They _paid_ you? Like, for real?”

“Yeah. Not that I needed it in the first place,” Robbe shrugs. “But I _do _want bribe money.”

Yasmina laughs out loud with Robbe and the rest of them this time.

In the end, they settle for this: Zoë and Senne stay at the main double bed, isolated from the rest. Jens and Jana get the improvised version, next to where she and the rest of the girls are sleeping. And the boys get the bigger cabin with the bunk beds, including her brother, who will arrive tomorrow morning.

The girls let her pray alone before getting on their beds, too. So, it could be worse.

* * *

iv.- _Saturday 11. July 2020._

** _12:23_ **

Her brother and his friends arrive with a cooler full of cheap beer, a volleyball mesh, and a ping-pong table. It’s safe to say they are received warmly.

“Did you call mom yet?” He asks as they hug hello.

Yasmina rises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Of course, I did. I _also_ told her you arrived at eight like _you said_ you would.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He says, hugging her a little tighter before letting Yasmina go. “Our beer-stop took longer than planned, and the traffic is crazy this time of the year. With the festivals and such.”

“It’s fine,” Yasmina sighs. “But call her soon, too.”

“Okay.” He says, and then he asks while they look at their friends propping the ping-pong table on the sand: “Are you having fun?”

“Yes, I am.” And Yasmina means that, she really does.

He smiles, pleased.

** _15:01_ **

It’s a sunny day in Bruges. They decide to go swimming.

Luca talks about how last time they came too late in the year. “It was fucking _cold_. I couldn’t even look at the water without freezing to death.”

Now, it’s as sunny and warm in Belgium as it can be, and her friends are taking full advantage of that fact.

Yasmina watches them by the shore. She sits under a sunshade, reading the Quran’s passages she planned for today, and waiting for her next prayer to come along.

The breeze is cold and hot all the same, wet and humid this close to the ocean. She likes how it feels on her face, around her sunglasses, with the ice-cream she served herself, and how warm inside it seems to leave her with the image of her friends having fun in the background.

** _22:47_ **

Yasmina knows it’s been barely over a day, but she misses him. A lot. They have been texting here and there, briefly, but it’s not the same as seeing each other all the time.

Being into someone this much is what Yasmina would expect from the likes of Amber—missing a guy after thirty-four hours of being apart is absolutely ridiculous—not from herself, but life is funny like that. And, contrary to popular belief, Yasmina is capable of thinking about boys, too.

Not any boy, though. An awesome, respectful, caring, handsome one. A _good_ guy. Who just happens to like her back.

> Is it fun over there?
> 
> I’m still bitter I couldn’t go
> 
> It’s really fun
> 
> It’s a shame you had to work
> 
> Really
> 
> My brother misses you btw
> 
> And what about you?

She looks at the text, and sighs. Yasmina, for the longest time, hid her feeling from everyone—she was scared they would judge, or misunderstand, or discriminate, belittle, and being in a somewhat relationship with a non-Muslim guy still makes her wary, defensive. It’s all new. So, she changes the topic instead.

> It’s good here
> 
> How was work anyways?

Yasmina isn’t brave enough to answer with the “_I wish you were here_” she means. Not yet.

* * *

v.- _Sunday 12. July 2020._

** _21:58_ **

Travelling with friends and family is one thing, Yasmina deals with that alright. Her sleeping hours have been reduced by unwanted snoring, privacy is limited, and calm moments for her to pray or read are scarce during the day, but it’s all manageable. Yasmina can bear with that to be with her friends here.

Travelling with couples, however, is a completely different breed.

It’s another night around the campfire, toasting marshmallows and passing blunts around and drinking too much, for little reason and loud ping-pong tournaments. Yasmina just observes.

Zoë sits on Senne’s lap, feeding each other marshmallows and sharing a drink, looking cute and high in love. Jana and Jens take the horny route—another symptom of their honeymoon disease. They have been making out for some time, now. They don’t really seem to mind the audience, and Yasmina feels some _type_ of way about it all.

It’s weird. Yasmina never expected herself to feel like this. Yeaning and jealousy are not emotions she can link to any other situation, or any other time. However, things are different.

Yasmina would never go at it for everyone to see, but she finds herself wishing he was here. They could be talking, playing around, sitting close and sharing glances, warming each other’s hands close to the fire and sharing marshmallows.

Yasmina looks one more time at Zoë—her wavy blonde hair, red lipstick smearing all over Senne’s face, his hand low, low, low on her back—and decides she shouldn’t be moping about this stuff. It’s counterproductive. Yasmina doesn’t actually want any of that, even if the pressure and insecurities win over for a second. She wants to do things her way, at their own pace, and that’s okay.

So, she looks away, takes a picture of the campfire and sends it to him.

> I’d be nice if you could see this in person
> 
> With us

* * *

vi.- _Monday 13. July 2020._

** _07:32_ **

Yasmina has always been a morning person. She’s been raised as such and decided herself to continue with that teaching, unlike her older brother—he is the _“sleep ‘til midday”_ type, for sure. It helps her concentrate, keeps her head straight and gives her time to plan for the day.

Turns out: not all of her friends are like that.

Amber is the first to wake up, as expected.

“Good morning,” Yasmina greets. “Anything I can help with?”

“Not yet,” Amber sighs, looking exhausted already. “Zoë and Senne went grocery shopping just now, they should be back in an hour or so. Then, I’ll need help to make breakfast. Coffee is already on the way.” Amber talks too fast for it to be so early in the morning, but Yasmina manages to catch enough of her rambling to nod.

She walks inside the kitchen to find Jens sleeping against the wall, mumbling senselessly as Robbe makes coffee for him, and the rest of the boys lying half-sleep at the couch outside.

Yasmina reaches out to help, bumping into Robbe as they stir the cups. “What’s up with him?”

Robbe shrugs, and yawns. “Stayed too late fucking, I guess.” He looks over his shoulder, handing Jens his coffee. “Definitely hungover, too.” And Jens doesn’t seem to be _there _enough to have an answer aside from a grunt.

Yasmina looks amused as Jens trips on his way to the couch and pours his coffee into Jana’s lap, who doesn’t even notice as she drifts to sleep on her seat.

Yeah, they are not morning people at all.

** _16:46_ **

Some afternoons are slower than others—warmer or colder, calmer or hectic. Today, the girls pass a gloomy day inside the cabin, playing boardgames and gossiping and eating through some ice-cream, while the guys play volleyball and record for a vlog by the shore.

Jana and her love-life has been the recurrent topic lately. They all are aware of how things were once between her and Jens, and how Britt didn’t take the news all that well—Britt is not their biggest fan in general, but it’s healthier to just focus in the present.

To live in fear of the worst, worrying about the future and what people say; that’s just not the way to go.

“We were hanging out one day,” Jana starts when asked how it actually happened, a dreamy smile on her face, a red hue on her cheeks. “And I looked at him and thought, fuck it, I want to give us a try. I’m ready. And we just did.”

It’s that simple sometimes, to follow one’s heart, against all odds, without losing yourself in the process.

Yasmina knows that, but she wishes it was as easy for her, too.

** _21:39_ **

“Have you talked to him?” Her brother asks. They are sitting by some rocks, away from the group and closer to the seaside. They need some meditation time every once in a while.

They had been quiet for a long time, praying silently and just accompanying each other, so his question comes out of nowhere.

Yasmina looks at him and says: “We’ve been texting. Have you called mom at all?”

She knows she’s being defensive, but Yasmina can’t help it sometimes. She trusts her brother with their relationship—she has a blind faith on him, to keep her secret, but it makes her feel uncomfortable and exposed when he asks about his best friend directly.

He knows they are seeing each other. He knows it’s a thing, he supports it, helps covering up with their parents and Yasmina can’t be grateful enough. However, talking about him to her brother herself, would be pushing a boundary she is not ready to cross yet. Yasmina barely talks to the girls about him, even when all they fuss about is boys.

Yasmina is not secretive, but rather reticent, and sharing comes with some effort.

Her brother gets it, though. He doesn’t judge her. He smiles and pets her head. “Yeah, I called her. She’s not that worried anymore” he says, waits a moment, and adds: “He misses you. And it’s fine if you miss him, too, Yas.”

Yasmina mirrors his grin, a little strained perhaps, but it’s enough for now. “I know.” _I do, _she doesn’t say. “Don’t worry too much. We’re here to have fun.”

He smiles again, wide and bright just like her. They have the same gummy smile.

* * *

vii.- _Tuesday 14. July 2020._

** _14:31_ **

> I saw the vlog
> 
> Them playing volleyball and ping-pong
> 
> Darn I wish I was there
> 
> My brother was happy you weren’t
> 
> He likes being the best
> 
> Is work okay?
> 
> It’s awesome really
> 
> The kids and I are going to the amusement park today
> 
> That’s cool
> 
> Those kids love you
> 
> They do
> 
> And I love them too
> 
> But work sucks when your friends are having fun at the beach
> 
> Are you and the girls having fun too?
> 
> Of course!
> 
> We just aren’t cavemen chasing a ball
> 
> Hey!

** _19:09_ **

Yasmina agrees to a week at the beach with them. Partying, however, it’s completely out of the deal, and the girls don’t expect otherwise anymore. It’s part of their compromise thing, and Yasmina feels giddy by their support and understanding.

Amber makes plans for them to attend a rave. They spent the last hour dressing in white clothes and neon colors, and Yasmina helps as much as she can. The girls look cute with bright hair highlights and sparkly make-up on, and they have fun painting dumb stuff on the boys.

They are leaving in a minute. Amber talked about a free-entrance ticket if they arrived early enough, and how they should be back past midnight.

While she doesn’t mind having her friends around, she likes to have time for herself, too. Yasmina likes peace, order and silence; this beach trip has been everything but that. She won’t complain about one night alone.

Yasmina sits by the campfire, book and EarPods at hand, when two figures appear by her side. “Hey.”

She looks at Robbe weirdly. He’s dressed in white and splotches of neon blue but doesn’t look to be going anywhere. “You’re not going?”

Robbe shakes his head no, passing his drink to Jens. “Sander's coming tonight, so…”

Jens snorts amused, raising his eyebrows all the way up. “He’s coming tonight, or _coming _tonight?”

Robbe laughs, pushing Jens away and towards the group leaving. Yasmina chuckles, too. “Asshole.”

They sit silently for a while, just enjoying each other’s company, but Yasmina is curious. “I thought Sander wasn’t coming.”

Robbe looks at her and shrugs. “He was feeling down, we didn’t want to risk anything but,” he says, looking ahead into the ocean with a light smile. “this place holds some meaning for us, I guess. Sander is all about traditions and anniversaries and stuff.”

Yasmina knows very little about them; the majority of it came from the girls, and Robbe isn’t a sharer—he’s working on that—so she's elated by Robbe letting her know. “Really?”

Robbe nods. He smiles wide now, standing up suddenly and extending her a hand. He nods behind them. “How about I tell you about it over some ping-pong? To kill some time?”

“Sure. You’re going down!” Yasmina smiles, too, feeling warm and happy.

She likes it when her friends trust her enough to share.

** _21:21_ **

When Sander arrives, the first thing they do is hug.

Yasmina didn’t want to intrude, but curiosity gets the best of her. She looks at them from inside the cabin, as they stand by the entrance. It’s almost as if they melt into each other, as if the mere idea of being apart is painful. And, maybe it is. “I missed you so much.”

Robbe acts differently around Sander—it’s hard to explain. He’s never like this with the rest of the guys, or her; Robbe just glows warm around him. “You saw me four days ago,” She hears Robbe giggle a bit, hugging him a bit tighter, a bit longer. “I missed you, too.”

And Yasmina can’t help but wonder: how is that so easy for them to say?

They make it seem so simple and effortless. Like breathing, like existing. They just _miss_ each other and _say_ so. They _love_ and aren’t afraid to _show_ it. And maybe it is that simple, maybe it could be, and Yasmina isn’t quite there yet, to understand how it can be as easy as it should.

When they kiss, Yasmina looks away with a smile.

* * *

viii.- _Wednesday 15. July 2020_.

** _02:17_ **

It’s a quiet night—she didn’t expect to be at first, considering Robbe and Sander were at the next room over, all alone, but it is. She gets some reading done, calls her mother as always, prays and goes to sleep early.

Or, at least it _was_ a quiet night. Until the group arrived.

Yasmina jumps out of her sleep when she hears Luca tumbling into their room, falling face first into her bed. Amber is nowhere to be found, her brother is laughing at Aaron’s drunk nonsense, Moyo bangs at the door, asking for everyone to hear if Robbe and Sander are done being intimate, and she is vaguely aware of the guys mocking Jens as their door closes shut with a loud smack.

Yasmina breathes in and relaxes into her pillow again, falling asleep.

She can complain about their commotions in the morning.

** _18:26_ **

Senne leaves. Some stuff at work, Zoë says. They kiss good-bye to all of their friends’ whistling and catcalling.

Amber is wary of Senne—fair enough. She believes something is up with him, but Zoë ignores her, for the most part. “It’s no big deal, Amber. He has a life apart from being my boyfriend.”

Yasmina doesn’t understand much of how minds like Amber’s work. She visions herself going nuts with a codependency like that. There is something to be said about insecurities and the anxiety that comes with being apart from one’s significant other, but Yasmina believes in her own agency and independence.

Yes, Yasmina is into a guy and she misses him a ton but, spending every waking moment wondering and worrying about them cheating, like a buzz under the skin, is not a healthy way to live.

Yasmina wonders if that’s how it works only for her, though—Zoë doubts. She puts a strong wall that crumbles as soon as Amber looks away, frowning as she texts. Amber always expects the worst. And Jana is terrified of history repeating itself. So, Yasmina needs external feedback.

“Do you worry, too?” Robbe looks at her weird, lost, and Yasmina only then notices how Robbe wasn’t really following their conversation. She elaborates. “About cheating?”

“Not anymore,” Robbe says after a minute, and Yasmina follows his eyes onto Sander chatting with his friends. He smiles a bit. “Neither of us have anything to worry about.”

“How can you be so sure?” Yasmina asks. She need reassurance that not worrying doesn’t mean she doesn’t care, or her feelings aren’t strong enough.

“I’m not,” He says, not wasting a beat. “I just want to be.”

Yasmina _knows _Robbe: he overthinks and worries too much—they are alike in that sense—and she’s sure there are tons of things he could be insecure about when it comes to Sander, but now he just… isn’t, just like so. “Is it really that easy?”

It can’t work like that, can it? One can’t stop being like they used to because of someone else, that’d be _unhealthy_ and _wrong_ and against everything she stands for. Yasmina hates that—the idea of changing yourself to be with someone else. Yasmina has morals, ethics and codes she lives by; she can’t control what she feels, but she can choose how to act on it in a way that corresponds with who she _wants_ to be.

Yasmina is conflicted by how being in love makes her question everything she thought she knew about herself, everything she thought was right and wrong, everything she wanted and could live without.

Robbe shrugs. “Look, I’m no love expert,” He nods at Amber and Zoë arguing about Senne again, and adds: “but if you can’t trust your own boyfriend, then why bother?”

Yasmina looks at him. “Sometimes you have to take risks and trust and just _be_,” Robbe says, smiling at her. “Do what you feel like, what feels right and stop worrying so much. It’s supposed to be easy, isn’t it? Relationships, I mean.”

She nods, because it_ should_ and Yasmina wants to stop feeling like it _can’t_. “_Voila_. If it feels like it’s easy, then you won’t have anything to worry about.” Robbe stands up when Sander calls for him but smiles at her one last time before walking away. “Trust me, I lived with those two. I’d know.”

Yasmina laughs as she watches him leave. His words stay.

* * *

ix.- _Thursday 16. July 2020_.

** _08:55_ **

She walks up to a “_boys gossip committee_”—Luca calls it that— over the coffee table this morning, after Amber, Zoë and Jana went to the grocery store. Amber isn’t letting Sander and Robbe go, even after they offered. “Over my dead body,” she said. Yasmina can gather that there’s a story she's missing, by how smug Sander looked.

Aaron’s crush on Amber is a long-running joke between them. He’s hopeless and head over heels, Yasmina thinks it’s endearing and embarrassing all at once, but today it turns into the center of serious trash talk on _Raveboy_.

Amber brought a guy to the cabin yesterday—she says they met at the rave and just hit it off, which explains her disappearance that morrow after the party. He doesn’t introduce himself, kisses Amber like a property, talks down to the guys, looked uncomfortable and disgusted when he saw Robbe and Sander kissing and asked her if she was okay with them “because of your scarf, I mean.”

So, _yeah_.

And all of that happened in the last twenty-four hours.

Raveboy is not their favorite person at the moment. Very much on Amber’s brand, though. A pretty face, nice body with a horrible personality. She will never learn.

Maybe she should really consider Aaron someday.

He is kind of goofy and desperate, sure. He’s a nice guy, though—at least he’s not homophobic, compliments Yasmina’s hijabs sometimes, and likes Amber as more than a mouth to kiss and body to touch for a summer fling.

** _10:01_ **

“_I’m serious_! He literally looked at me waiting for me to get out of his way, bro.”

“Who the fuck does that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe fuckboys like you, Senne.”

“Fuck off. That was a long time ago—"

“But honestly. Look at me... Would any of you fuck him instead of me?”

“What? _Dude_.”

“Aaron, stop.”

“I’m serious! Am I really that, I don’t know, _unfuckable_?”

“Is that even a word?”

“Does it really matter? You want Amber to fuck you, not us.”

“I don’t know. But if none of you want, then how will I ever get Amber—”

“Who _cares_ about Amber’s opinion? She’s annoying and bossy and whiny and obviously blind, if she’s into that asshole.”

“Sander, not the time—"

“I care! I like her, for real.”

“I don’t know, man. That dickhead looks…_nothing_ like you. If we gotta talk about a type, you definitely aren’t.”

“But, in your favor…he’s shorter and skinner and younger.”

“He has weird teeth.”

“And a big head.”

“His haircut’s messy as fuck.”

“He looks like a frog; his eyes are too separated, it’s fucked.”

“I bet he has a small dick.”

“What the fuck, Jens. _Really_?”

“I’m just saying! Only an asshole with a small dick would act like that. He pushed me outta the restroom at the rave to take a piss. That’s dick insecurity, man.”

“I wanna just punch his stupid ass face, looking at us like that. Who the fuck does he think he is?”

“It isn’t that fucking serious, Moyo. He’s just an asshole.”

“He looked at you like you were fucked in the head for kissing box blondie there. Don’t start.”

“_Box blondie?_ This hair takes some fucking dedication, okay?”

“I mean…you kinda are.”

“_Babe—_”

“What are you guys even talking about?” As if their conversation alone wasn’t enough to make Yasmina tear up in laughter, their shocked faces when Amber arrives and glares at them with Raveboy by her side, clenching his jaw, made her stomach hurt.

** _17:49_ **

> I like having you around too much
> 
> I guess I just grew used to it

Yasmina stares at the messages for what it seems to be the nth time. It’s been minutes, and she still doesn’t know what to answer. Her brain is going overdrive. Yasmina doesn’t fathom how he can say such things so freely, so easily like that, leaving her speechless with such little and simple words.

She has it bad—Yasmina doesn’t know if she likes that or not, the effect he seems to have on her. She hasn’t decided her stance on it, yet.

> Isn’t that too bad?
> 
> We have to be away from each other sometimes
> 
> Not really
> 
> We could live together one day
> 
> Then we’ll see each other all the time

He just knows what to say, how to get under her skin, paint her cheeks with all the hues of red possible and warm-up her stomach, even while being hours away from each other. And the girls are bound to notice her flustered self sooner than later.

“Why are you smiling to your phone so much?” Luca asks, trying to look over. Yasmina shuts the screen off just fast enough. “What? Some secret stuff?”

“It’s nothing. Just my mother.” Yasmina dismisses, pocketing her phone and turning to the window behind her, hiding her reddening face.

Zoë looks over, examines her face for a second, and grins. “Wait—Are you blushing?”

“No, I’m not!” Yasmina says, but she can feel her face gaining heat and his cheeks burning as the words leave her mouth.

“Yes, you _are_!” Amber screams, and Luca starts giggling with Zoë. “That’s amazing! Why didn’t you tell us?!”

Jana drapes her arms around her shoulders and swings her from side to side, too excited and probably as giddy as Yasmina feels herself as she says: “Yasmina’s in _love_!”

And…she truly might be.

* * *

x.- _Friday 17. July 2020._

** _09:53_ **

Being with her friends all day for a whole week has been a learning experience: Luca is a light sleeper, Jens and Jana are heavy sleepers but pull loud all-nighters, Zoë and Senne like to indulge themselves with breakfast in bed, Amber runs first thing in the morning and, Robbe and Sander sleep together, or not much at all, even considering the small, top bunk bed they share. Her brother is not a morning person, he always wakes up last, and his friends seem to rest for less than four hours a day.

Yasmina has her nitpicks, too: she wakes up too early and doesn’t have the energy to last much. She wakes up to pray in the middle of the night and gets irritated when she doesn’t get her eight hours of sleep.

Today, she wakes up a little later than usual to an empty room, and finds Amber alone in the kitchen, sipping some coffee and scrolling down Instagram. It’s almost ten am, she checks, but everyone is asleep. Yasmina frowns. “Where’s everyone?”

“The guys pulled a pregame at their cabin. Then, they went at to a party. I don’t think everyone is back, to be honest.” She says, sounding more annoyed than upset. Then, she sighs: “We were supposed to start cleaning earlier today…”

“I can help you with that.” Yasmina offers, holding one of Amber’s hands on hers. Her friend smiles grateful, eyes bright, but shakes her head no, finishing her coffee and taking the cup to the sink.

“It’s no biggie now. Robbe helped enough. We’ve just some cooking and packing left.” Amber cleans what she used and stops, turning back and looking at her for a moment and says: “I’m so, so happy you could come, you know?”

Yasmina smiles back, coming next to her, hugging Amber’s side. She feels warm inside, and her mind is a little fuzzy, but the words come out of her mouth easily. “I’m happy, too. Thanks for inviting me, seriously.”

“You’re welcome. We all wanted you here.” And that’s more than worth the hassle for Yasmina, it really is.

** _11:18_ **

After a week of attempted surfing, canoeing, waterboarding, beach volleyball, ping-pong, all-nighters full of illegal substances Yasmina doesn’t want to delve too much in, loud night activities Yasmina really didn’t need to hear about, less so from her _friends_, and parties, parties and parties; they settle for paintball today, as the grand finale of summer entertainment before leaving.

The boys say there’s nothing better than a good old “_catch the flag_” fun hungover, after last night’s party downtown—Amber started to regret putting all of them together by Tuesday. Yasmina and her lack of sleep this whole week doubt that but refrains herself from bursting their bubble; it sounds more dangerous than anything else, but she would digress for now.

“For old time’s sake,” Luca says. “It’s kinda really hot for the gear but…sacrifices are necessary for fun sometimes.”

“Our bus leaves at five, anyways. We're playing before lunch, then we finish cleaning, then we pack, turn back the keys and catch the bus. If we are on time, we could go to the pool this time, too.” Amber rambles, counting on her fingers, like a checklist, all the things left to do for the day, and everyone groans at her words.

Yasmina herself doesn’t want to think too hard about it. This is their last day; their last afternoon at Bruges and thinking about going back home makes her feel empty and nostalgic already. It’s a sunny, pretty day in Belgium, perfect for some summer fun, and Yasmina wants to indulge on that instead. Home can wait for now.

She decides not to play, she rather acts as a moderator of their game, and Yasmina realizes she enjoys the feeling of keeping track of her friends, her family—look out for them, have them inside her eyesight at all times, the feeling on all of them trusting her, and Yasmina trusting back just as genuinely.

** _13:22_ **

Amber cooks something fancy with Zoë today, the name gets lost in translation for Yasmina, but it tastes good enough.

The ping-pong-turned-lunch table the guys put securely outside is chatty and loud all around. As Yasmina helps Amber pass the plates to everyone before sitting at one corner herself, looking at all of her friends and brother having fun and joking and being happy, Yasmina feels warms and kind of overwhelmed all of the fuzzy feelings pooling on the pit of her stomach.

Taking this risk, choosing her friends this once, really was worth it.

Yasmina takes out her phone and takes a picture of the table and all of them for herself. Sander complains how he had even brought his analog camera and all, for her to pull “_basic ass technology_” on him and steal his thunder, but Yasmina feels too giddy and happy to stand her own at play-argue today.

She looks at it for a second, and presses _send_ before she can talk herself out of it. Yasmina is sure he would like it just as much, too.

** _21:34_ **

He messages her first. Yasmina has just finished praying. He probably knew, since they’ve talked about how important the rituals are for her before. Yasmina mentioned how they would be home by seven, eight at the latest, but he must have waited for her to be available, made sure not to interrupt.

Yasmina feels her heart grow a bit at that realization.

> Are you at home already?
> 
> How was the trip?
> 
> It was very fun
> 
> Thanks for asking
> 
> It’s fine Yas
> 
> I missed you
> 
> I really did

Yasmina wants to say “_yes, I missed you terribly,_” but chooses otherwise. It’s still weird, admitting her attraction and feelings so openly like that. Yasmina is not embarrassed by the way she feels, she would never be, but showing her heart is still a learning process.

Her first instinct is to text back with “_no, why would I?_” and she types just that.

Then, Yasmina thinks. She thinks of him, his bright smile falling after reading that. She thinks of them, feeling as if they are going back to square one after a week apart, how weak their bond would look if she shut him out like this. She thinks of herself, building up the walls for no reason at all, because she almost feels obligated to.

She thinks of Robbe’s words couple of night ago, at the beach, acting as if he was talking about Zoë and Senne while he looked at his boyfriend with a tender, loving smile on his face, voice raw and heart open. _It’s supposed to be easy, _Robbe said. _Just do what you feel like, what feels right._

Yasmina believes him, she wants to, because it can be easy. She erases what she typed, chews on her bottom lip for a moment, and tries again.

> I missed you too
> 
> A little

The answer comes immediately, so much Yasmina jumps a little at the buzz her phone makes. He must have been waiting.

> Really?
> 
> Not that much
> 
> You’re not that special

It’s not a lot, but it’s process. And what fun would it have if she just gave him the answer that he wants so easily like that? They thrive in their push and pull, a flirty dance of theirs: playing hard to get, rather. Lingering gases, hot and cold. It’s their _thing_.

And he reacts just how she would expect him.

> Aww
> 
> But I missed you so much!
> 
> We should meet tomorrow
> 
> At the park?

Yasmina is smiling like a lovesick idiot, she knows she is, but that’s okay. It’s fine, because she is alone in her room and here, she can feel freely and there is nothing to hide, no one to judge her. Here, talking to him, Yasmina can be herself and love unashamed, unafraid of the world.

> Okay
> 
> I would like that
> 
> Great!
> 
> I’ll pick you up after lunch
> 
> I’ll be waiting
> 
> Don’t be late this time
> 
> I won’t
> 
> I promise
> 
> Good night Yas
> 
> Good night

Yasmina goes to sleep with a smile, dreaming of tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> this is not the fic i've been writing since episode six aired, but it's the one i finished and you guys get first. the other mess should be done by the end of the season, or i hope so.
> 
> the headcanons for this are endless. i won't write more, though.


End file.
